


The Days Between

by worm_blooded



Series: Strange Encounters [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Other, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worm_blooded/pseuds/worm_blooded
Summary: What exactly do Stephen and Wong do when they’re not busy outwitting their next mystical foe? Does the silence of the New York sanctum’s great halls weigh heavily on their spirits? Does– daresay-- boredom ever grace their floors and, slinking, creep up on them? Or, worse yet, the pressures and expectations associated with living in the contemporary society? Let’s find out, shall we...





	The Days Between

**Author's Note:**

> all just platonic stuff here folks! :)  
> Infinity war/endgame/BBC Merlin spoilers  
> Mild swearing cw

The first rays of light danced upon the cover sheets of Stephen’s comically large bed-- lord knows what had gone on in the sanctum’s master bedroom before he had moved in. His eyes fluttered open to greet the orange glow, and he sighed,

“Another day.”

After the events of the war and eventual return of half the world’s population, it had been all quiet on the mystical front. A little too quiet, perhaps, but the tranquility was definitely welcomed, especially by Stephen. Though these past few months had given Stephen and Wong plenty of time to reflect and recuperate, they couldn’t help but find themselves starting to get a bit  _bored_ .  


In those months the pair had continued their exploration of what the nooks and crannies of the New York city culinary scene had to offer. Unfortunately, magic didn’t pay all too well, and they had to get crafty about how they acquired their food. Stephen had gotten a part-time consulting job at the hospital, but its pay was  meager. Gone were the days when he could book a table at the fanciest of restaurants at the drop of a hat, those days had left him long ago, along with his hands.

  
Stephen reluctantly got up and wrapped his cloak tight about his exposed form. The chill in the echoey room had cooled the steel pins in his hands, and they ached. He made for the kitchen sink in hopes that the warm water would soothe the pain. Upon entering the kitchen, Wong greeted him with a sour expression. Paying no heed to his friend, Stephen ran his hands under a stream of water, then, satisfied, proceeded to shuffle over to the fridge. He opened the door and a wall of empty white glared back at him.  


“Huh, no food,” he said, at which point he took notice of Wong’s glower.  


“No surprise there, since you  _ate_ it all,” jibbed Wong, putting particular emphasis on the word ‘ate’.  
  
Stephen’s stomach growled, “I’m sorry, Wong, but I’ve just been so hungry this past while, I don’t know what it is.”  


“Maybe you picked up a mystical tapeworm while you were hanging out in the Soul Stone," he jeered.  


“Oh come on, you make it sound like my role in all of that was so easy.”  
  
Wong's eyes narrowed, “ _You_ didn’t have to spend five years in a world half in ruins. Bodies need maintaining, while souls can just while away their time floating around.”  


“Well, if you’re so hungry, why don’t  _you_ get a job?” retorted Stephen.  


“Stephen, I  _have_ a job.”  
  
Stephen was momentarily taken aback, but then straightened and said curtly: 

“Why didn’t you tell me you got a job, Wong.”  


“You never asked,” he replied simply, “You’ve been too busy studying."  
  
Stephen just stared in disbelief. He’ll never fully understand this man, he thought, 

“Come on, let’s go see what we can scavenge.”  
  
Wong nodded, but then: “Oh, before we go, I need to show you something,” he fished around in his robes and pulled out a wax-sealed envelope “This arrived in the mail. By owl, actually.” He handed it to Stephen.  


“Owl, huh,” he took it and turned it around in his hands, “What is this, Harry Potter? Wizards and their need for flamboyance will never cease to amuse me.”  


“It’s from Merlin,” Wong added  matter-of-factually , and turned to leave.

~

“ Now when your letter arrived in the mail, I seriously thought it was some sort of prank. It had never occurred to me that you were not quite so  _mythical_ as everyone made you out to be.”  


“Well, Stephen,” replied Merlin, setting down his teacup, “time has a way of distorting the truth, of making fiction; fact, and reality merely myth.”  


“Myth indeed. Legend, in fact. What, you must be pushing 1 500 years old, right?”  


“Indeed I am,” admitted Merlin, sitting back in his seat, “But you yourself are no spring chicken. Looks can be deceiving, but your eyes betray you.”

  
Wong and Stephen exchanged glances. Stephen had made good use of the time stone-- before the war of course-- for practice and peering into the future’s possible outcomes, but only Wong knew of the full extent how the stone had aged him. Getting used to the stone no longer being at his disposal was something that would take Stephen time to get used to, possibly more time than even the stone itself could have ever offered him.  


“Quite the astute observation,” remarked Stephen, “looks indeed can be deceiving.”  


“Now I may be old my boy, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeves,” countered Merlin with a glint in his eye, “Enough banter, I came to visit you for a purpose after all.”  


“Proceed,” said Stephen with a gesture of his gloved hand.  


“During the time period of what you Avengers call the ‘Snap’, I had been in deep meditation and had only found out about all the horrors that had transpired after the fact... What I’m saying is that I would like to offer my help and years of learned expertise for any future  endeavours. I realise time may be inconsequential to me, but five years to you lot weighs heavily on your spirits. I no longer want to sit idly by and watch the world pass before me, I’ve had time enough for that already.”  


“Excellent!” said Stephen cheerfully, “If the legends are true, we can use a man of your talents.”  
  
At this Merlin’s expression became thoughtful, “It has been a very long while-- centuries, in fact-- since the last time I had to do any  _real_ magic, not since I last saw Arthur Pendragon, actually,” his eyes, gazing off into the distance, appeared to be somewhere miles, even centuries away from the ornate seat upon which he currently sat. The old dusty mansion of Greenwich village, a mere hazy backdrop to his current thoughts. His mind did not linger long though: “When will I be able to help? Do you have any pressing matters of late that need attending to?”  
  
Stephen and Wong let out a collective sigh, albeit stifled and faint, “Actually, Merlin, it’s been unusually quiet,” replied Wong, “and as much as we hate to admit it... we could use some entertainment.”

“ Well my lads,” replied Merlin, getting up, “I’m afraid I cannot help you with the matter of entertainment-- my old hands have long since lost their ability to juggle-- but let me know if anything...  _mystical_ pops up.” He made for the sanctum’s entrance. Upon reaching the door, he turned around one last time, “Be sure to send and owl for me, I unfortunately still haven’t been able to yet grasp the wiles of telecommunication,” and with a wink, he disappeared through the door.

~

  
  


The door to the gallery tingled softly and Wong looked up from his  cataloguing. A man of about fifty, yet white of hair, strode into the room. He had an air of arrogance about him, and made a point of nodding thoughtfully while observing each piece, occasionally clucking his tongue for emphasis. He slowly, yet deliberately made his way around the room towards Wong’s counter, where upon reaching it, he eyed the catalogue.  


“Ahh, the painted vases of Constantinople! Some have been documented as having mystical properties, what make you of that?” asked the man.  
  
Wong shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the man’s breath smelled of something most foul.  


“They have been an intense area of study for me most recently, I have been tasked with securing one for the gallery and I believe I’ve succeeded in finding one. They’re extremely difficult to distinguish from common merchant replicas of their time. As for their mystical properties... I believe that’s all just legend tacked on to their often being used as urns,” replied Wong.  


“So you don’t just look the part then, eh? You really know your stuff. Pray tell, how is it that you acquire your pieces, a supplier of sorts perhaps?” the man asked, lowering his voice and leaning in.  
  
Wong did not like where this was going, there was something very off about this man. “I have my ways,” he replied simply, and returned to his cataloguing, though he remained tense. A lot of strange people had been in and out of the gallery since he started working there, but this man in particular was up to something.  


“Fine, don’t tell me,” the man said playfully, “after all, we all have our  _sources_ ,” and with that he spun on his heel and made for the exit.  
~

  
  


That night, as Wong was walking home, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed. Of course he was, his instincts never failed him, and he was willing to swear on the Vishanti that it was the man from earlier. Extra security precautions would have to be taken that night.

  
~

  
  


After Wong had disappeared through the sanctum’s great doors and locked up for the night, the man emerged from the shadows. He crept up the stoop and silently tried the doors.  


“Of course it’s been deadlocked with  _magic_ ,” he hissed, “and I bet he freshened up any charms on the windows after my behaviour today. After all this time you’d  _think_ I’d have at least learned a little subtlety.” Defeated, he shuffled down the stairs muttering something about ‘sources’.

~

  
  


“ I’m sorry, you’re looking for  _what_ ?” asked the library volunteer, silently regretting the new ‘open late’ policy implemented on Fridays. This old man must’ve been out of his mind.  


“You heard me,” said the man, growing impatient, “’Beelzebub’s Book of Summoning’, or ‘Demonology for Dummies’ or whatever you call it these days.”  


“Look,” said the librarian with a sigh, “this is a public library, not some creepy occult shop. If you’re so desperate to summon some kind of demon, go and ask that weirdo guy on Bleecker street for help, ‘cuz yer not gonna find it here, old man.”  
  
The man was momentarily taken aback, then turned and slumped, “Teenagers” he muttered, “and for your information, I’m not _old_. I’m like, fifty, you know?” he added, loud enough for her to hear. “Where am I supposed to find what I need at this hour?” he sighed as he wandered amongst the rows of bookshelves, his poorly constructed plan was falling apart before it had even begun.  
  
Just as he was about to leave, an arm reached out from the shadows and pulled him behind a bookshelf.  


“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the lady over there,” rasped a man cloaked in shadow, “she’s new and doesn’t know much about the  _old_ catalogue.” A second hand emerged holding a dusty book.  


“’Imps and Ghouls: the Underdogs that Pack a lot of Potential’? I suppose it’ll work,” said the man with white hair, and taking it, left the building.  


“Sir...  _sir_ ! That’s still a library book you need to check it... ah, great, he left.” The man kicked the end of the bookcase in frustration.  


“You know, Jerry,” called the girl from the counter “maybe next time you shouldn’t ply clearly delusional old men with books that close to the exit, hmm? Also, the whole creepy act? Not a good look on you.”

~

  
  


Stephen awoke with a start. His eyes flailed wildly about the room, grasping at shadows. It was still night. A scratching sound was coming from underneath his bed-frame. He summoned his shield and was poised on the edge of the bed, ready to attack. The glow from the spell allowed a soft light to bathe the room. A small lump rolled out from under the bed. His momentary confusion relaxed his arms slightly, and he stared questioningly at the mass. The ball rolled to a stop and without warning sprouted four limbs. Before Stephen could react, the creature made for the door to the hallway. Beyond the door he heard Wong shouting.  


“What in blazes?!” Wong yelled as Stephen skidded into the hallway. 

There were multiple creatures skittering about, some holding small relics. They were all heading for the main entrance. Stephen and Wong ran after them.  


“What the hell are they?!” demanded Stephen in a state of dazed confusion.  


“Hell indeed... Imps, I think,” answered Wong, puffing, “I had a feeling something like this would happen tonight, but out of all the possible places they could come from... beds!”  


Before Stephen could press further, they rounded the corner. The front door was wide open, and masses of creatures were pouring out of it. A human figure emerged from one of the rooms and made to escape among them.  


“STOP!” commanded Stephen and forced a shield onto the door-frame. The remaining creatures bounced off it, sending the relics they had pillaged flying and shattering against the nearest wall. The figure too, caught off guard, ricocheted off the barricade and landed heavily on the hardwood floor.  


“Reveal yourself!” commanded Stephen, but Wong placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.  


“There is no need,” he said, crossing his arms, “I already know who it is.”  


“Do you now?” chuckled the figure on the floor, ending it with a pained cough. It started to force itself up into a standing position. Indeed, it was the man Wong had met in the gallery, but to both Stephen’s and Wong’s utter horror, his body began to change, to  _morph_ , the rippling of his skin grotesquely illuminated by the nearest torch light. With a final grunt and setting of bone, the man looked at the pair through new eyes that glinted madly in the light.  


“ _Merlin_ ?!” they said in unison, unable to mask their surprise. They continued to stare at the man, at a loss for words, at which point he collapsed onto the floor.  


“You know, there was a time I could do this without completely draining myself, but I forget, I’m not as young as I used to be,” sputtered Merlin, “although I’ve got impeccable timing now, you’ve got to hand it to me.”  


“Timing? Alright, tell us what the hell is going on, old man,” said Stephen, exasperated, as he and Wong propped him up against the wall.  


“You and Wong mentioned that these past few months had gotten to be quite boring, hanging around the sanctum, nothing much to do. It was clear that what you needed was a bit of  _excitement_ .”  
  
Stephen let out a sigh “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me--”  


“--And don’t you go telling me that wasn’t exciting,” said Merlin, cutting him off.  


“He’s right, you know,” interjected Wong, “I’ve found that these past few months I’ve grown soft, recasting those protection spells around the sanctum was a good refresher... and who would have ever thought to charm a bed! Those creatures sure can find a way out of anywhere.” He cast a sidelong glance at the remaining unconscious imps.  


“Oh, Wong, don’t tell me you’re siding with this fool?” snapped Stephen.  


"I wouldn’t go calling anyone a fool if _I_ were without my dressing gown,” snickered Merlin.  
  
Stephen looked down at his bare form and, embarrassed, motioned for the cloak of levitation.  


“And you know what?” said Merlin, struggling to get up, “I learned a few things myself. The glamour was easy enough, lord knows how many times I’ve had to take that foul potion, but I never thought I’d  _ever_ dabble in the dark arts... yet here we are!”  


“Well what a stupid decision that was, now I have to clean up your mess,” and grumbling, Stephen made for the door.  


“Great, now he’ll finally have some  _real_ work to do,” said Wong once Stephen was out of earshot, and he and Merlin shared a good chuckle.  


“May I interest you in some tea?” asked Wong once he’d finally gotten the old man to his feet, “No biscuits or anything because Stephen ate them all, but plenty of tea!” and they shuffled off towards the kitchen.


End file.
